Bail
by Ninnik Nishukan
Summary: Realizing it's already been ten whole years of kidnapping forces Roxanne Ritchi to react. Yet another take on Metro Man never faking his own death. AU set around three years after the film.
1. Chapter 1

**Bail**

Ninnik Nishukan

* * *

**Author's notes: **This story isn't much, but I've been trying and failing at finishing any of my many, many Megamind stories for far too long. In the end, I figured I'd start a new, shorter story, just to see if I could finish anything at all. Here it is.

* * *

A beat or two after Minion leaves to get some missing component of whatever the newest plan requires (she realizes she wasn't even listening), she decides to just do it. What she's wanted to for weeks.

"It's just not funny anymore."

She can hear her own voice coming out of her, quiet and tired and sincere, but it feels like it's coming from someone just slightly to the left of her, someone outside of her body, observing her. She feels simultaneously connected and disconnected to the moment.

"What?"

Even _his_ voice is small now, all of a sudden. A few seconds ago, he was shouting. She wonders if he's just responding to the _tone_ of her voice, to her facial expression, because he can't possibly have heard what she said, can he? He's staring at her, walking uncertainly across the floor towards her, in an odd sort of hunched, half-bent sort of way, trying to meet her eye level where she's tied to the hostage chair. What does her face look like right now, to make him act like that?

She shifts in her seat, and swears she can feel a splinter grazing her wrist. Can't they just get a_ new_ chair, already?

"I can't do this anymore," she elaborates, wistful yet unmoving to her own ears.

"Can't do…this," he repeats hollowly, the furrow forming between his eyebrows telling her that he's somewhere between not quite understanding and not quite wanting to understand.

She believed she intended it as an experiment, more or less just to see how he'd react, what he'd do, but now that the idea is out there, she understands that she means it with all her heart.

Of _course_ she's asked him to stop before, but usually only so he'd give it a rest for a couple of days or (in some extreme cases) for a week or two— she has never really asked him to stop _completely_ before, and has never asked him this seriously— she was always rolling her eyes, raising an eyebrow or scoffing, not looking him in the eye and being genuine— and she has never taken the time to explain _why_, on a personal level—

"It's enough now. I just want to get back to my life. I want to do things. I have things to do. I don't want to keep doing this forever. Sometimes it's been almost like fun, but it's starting to wear me out. I've just…I've reached a certain point, and I think I reached it weeks ago, maybe longer." Sighing, she rolls her stiff shoulders for a moment, but makes sure not to break eye contact for too long. Meets his unflinching, stunned stare again. "I haven't had a real vacation in years, I've missed my last two dentist appointments, and I haven't visited my parents in forever. I can't anymore. I want to be left alone to figure some things out."

What will he say, really? Will he threaten her melodramatically, reminding her that she isn't in any position to complain, that she will do exactly as the evil mastermind says, or face the consequences? Or will he lecture her on the rules of the game, complaining that she's acting even more out of character than usual? Or will he just act offended and sulk for a week, before kidnapping her again? Or will he actually—?

He opens his mouth. Closes it again. Wrings his leather-covered hands. Draws a breath. "What is it that you don't…?"

"You know. _This_." She tosses her head, trying to gesture at their surroundings without the use of her hands. "I can't continue being some…_toy ball_ that you and Metro Man play with, tossing me back and forth. I'm a person. I have a life." She pauses, bites her lip. "Or at least…I _want_ to get a life. I used to have one."

"But it's been…it's always been…" His fidgeting hands retreat behind the curtains of his cape. "What brought this on?"

"Ten years of_ this_ brought it on. I suppose."

Slowly, he unbends his back. "The ten year annie-versary last week," he says, a hint of clarity in his suddenly flat voice, even as his expression remains lost.

"_Anniversary_," she says automatically, and watches his cheeks and ears go purple. For years, she left his constant mispronunciations alone, mainly because they were funny to her. Lately, they've been getting on her nerves, to the point where she's found herself unable to stop correcting him. "And not that it's any of your _business_, but I also happened to find my first grey hair a couple of weeks ago, and that's just— I mean, how long are we gonna keep doing this? Until we're so old we can't walk or remember who we_ are_ anymore?"

"Miss Ritchi, what if we just…do things _differently_?" Now there's a certain desperation floating about him, covering him like mist. "What if I conjure up something new and unpredictable? Not just a new weapon, but ridding ourselves of the tedious, posturing chessboard of good and evil and thinking in new and sneakier ways! With my con-_side_-rahbluh intellect, it shouldn't be any trouble! Recall the time when I tricked you into thinking we were in the old conservatory, when we really weren't? Remember _that_? Well! Let me tell you, that old bait and switch will seem as _nothing_ compared to..."

His bluster trails off as he catches sight of her shaking her head.

For a second, she was almost, _almost_ intrigued, but she's heard it before. And this time, she doesn't even bother correcting the mispronunciation. "It's not about a lack of _variety_ in what we've been doing. You can stop running yourself ragged trying to figure out how to wow me, how to invent something I haven't seen before. Because I want out. Completely. The point is that I want to be doing something entirely else. Something that_ I_ choose, not something that just _happens_ to me." A wounded, bitter note is creeping into her voice. She considers squashing it, but perhaps it's more important for him to hear how he's affected her, rather than upholding her cool, collected image of the past. "Not something I'm _forced_ into by other people, just because they _feel_ like it."

The blue seems to be draining out of his otherworldly face now, and she wonders if it has in fact _never_ occurred to him before, not _really_— and to him and Metro Man both— that she's been forced. That it's all been against her will, even though it's helped her career and has even been exciting occasionally. That her freedom of movement and freedom of choice was stolen from her, again and again. That this is what has actually been happening for ten years. That they just never even _thought_— that maybe they just _assumed_ she was always having just as much fun as them—

She's not sure if she wants to laugh or be angry at the notion.

She wonders, considering he was raised in a prison, and his personal servant is his closest friend, if _making_ other people _do_ things is just how Megamind thinks people treat each other. If prison routines has messed up his way of thinking about life. _At this particular time, we play the kidnapping game, and though some of us may complain, that's just how it is. Lights out at ten, overdone Salisbury steak on Sundays._

Or if it's merely what he thinks _supervillains_ do to other people.

Either way, she's not a criminal, she's not in prison, and she has the right to freedom of all kinds. Whatever issues he has is none of her business, outside of her journalistic or plain ol' human curiosity. His issues aren't going to stand in her way any longer. She knows bits and pieces, some of which she's personally guessed or dug for, some of which Metro Man has told her, and some of which Megamind has inadvertently revealed himself, but she can't afford to feel sorry for or indulge him anymore. He's a big boy, he should be able to deal. And she's a big girl who wants a future of her own design.

He's still just standing there, staring blankly, still pale, and it dawns on her that she's losing her chance. Minion may be back at any moment.

"_Megamind_," she says calmly, and it seems to jolt him.

"Yes," he mumbles, blinking rapidly, "yes, of course—" As if in a trance, he walks around the chair and starts fumbling with the ropes. She's shocked at how _easy_ it was; wonders if she should've just asked him properly _years_ ago. Wonders what she actually knows about him, even after all these years. As the ropes release her arms, her heart speeds up in a way it hasn't since the very few first kidnappings; she draws a relieved breath when her legs are freed as well. Yes, this was the right decision.

She's going.

She stands up quickly, snatching her handbag from the floor by her feet, and practically jogs across the floor towards the exit (not the one _marked_ exit, because she doesn't want to fall into the crazy alligator disco pit, but the one she discovered only last year was the real exit, during a failed escape attempt). Before she's through the door, she turns to look back at him, catching the dazed, pained look on his face. Then she hears Minion's heavy, robotic footsteps approaching, however, and doesn't take the time to linger.

The door clicks shut behind her, and fresh air hits her face, the sky a warm sunset pink.

Roxanne knows exactly where she is, because she figured out the location of the lair last year. Even if the walk home is long, she smiles. Just in case, she picks up a discarded length of pipe from the surrounding area, which is sprinkled with forgotten building materials. It would be far too pathetic (and/or ironic) if she actually ended up being bested by some common thug after finally escaping the clutches of a supervillain.

* * *

Nearly two months go by before anyone really notices Megamind's absence. Two months that Roxanne spends covering local murders, pollution scandals and public strikes. Two months that she spends visiting her family and reconnecting with friends she lost contact with. She even attends an office party (the latter mostly because Hal had to go temporarily live with his parents in Chicago due to his apartment building finally being condemned, meaning he'd be absent from the party).

Roxanne does all this without looking over her shoulder; without expecting to get a smelly bag shoved over her head at any given moment (or at least she stops expecting it after the first week or so).

One Thursday morning, she gets called to a press conference, and for once, she's not the one doing the interviewing.

"I guess the little guy just finally gave up," Metro Man suggests, smiling broadly at the sea of cameras. "I mean, it had to happen eventually, even with somebody as persistent as him. I guess that in the end, he had to admit he couldn't defeat me."

A dozen reporters start speaking as one. Finally, one of them, a tall, young black woman, manages to break through the din. "What is your opinion on Megamind's sudden silence, Miss Ritchi?"

Roxanne brushes her bangs aside with her fingers; gives the cameras a conspiratorial look. "Honestly? I think he just got _bored_. It _has_ been a very long time, after all, and with a brain that size, he had to eventually get sick of the repetition. I think he wanted to do something else with his life."

The reporter who asked the question (Roxanne thinks she might be from Channel 6 news, Morgan or Matthews or something) grins, and a slight chuckle ripples through the assembled press.

Glancing at Metro Man, Roxanne discovers a puzzled, curious frown on his face. All traces of his earlier public bravado gone for a moment, Roxanne experiences an involuntary wave of fondness for the big lug. Despite appearances, his ego isn't large enough to prevent him from considering her version of the story. She knows that he's spent more than one night wondering about Megamind's motivation, even if he hasn't actively done anything yet to change the game.

Except perhaps the time when, two years earlier, Metro Man attempted to send his nemesis a friendly Christmas card. Megamind mistook it for a sarcastic taunt and proceeded to send an army of robotic reindeer after him.

"And what, in your personal opinion, is Megamind doing with his life now, Miss Ritchi?" possibly-Morgan-or-Matthews asks.

Roxanne Ritchi shrugs. "I don't know. Depending on what it is, we may find out very soon and very publicly, or we may never find out."

The press erupts into questions again, but the rest of the conference is fruitless. Any answers would all just be speculation, anyway, especially Metro Man's answers. Roxanne hasn't even told him how Megamind agreed to let her go, so she's definitely not going to tell the press.

* * *

The following week, as she's watching the Sunday evening news, she hears a tentative knock on her balcony door. She's unsure whether or not she's shocked to see the familiar, blue face and dark cape through the glass (and not only because her apartment is up on the 24th floor).

Megamind gives a sheepish, nervous little wave when she notices him, and her stomach does a funny twisty thing. Was he standing out there long, pacing, watching her? Unintentionally invading her privacy as he tried to work up the nerve to knock? She's used to being watched and followed, and usually takes it in stride; but not here, not in her own home.

She sees him fidgeting as he waits for her to turn off the television, walk across the floor, and unlock and slide open the balcony door.

When she's removed the glass and hard plastic barrier between them, she just stands there, hand on the sliding door, and watches him wordlessly. The ball is in his corner. He's the one who decided to show up unannounced. And even though there are worse times when he could have interrupted her— the Sunday news was only featuring a local cat show when he knocked— he _has_ interrupted her. What does he expect her to do, invite him in for tea?

He shuffles his feet a bit. The hover bike hums gently in the air behind him. "I saw the press conference. On TV."

Some sort of understanding dawns on her. "Right."

"Miss Ritchi, I just wanted to say…thank you, I suppose." He shrugs one shoulder, meets her gaze with still embarrassed eyes and a weak smile. "For disagreeing with Metro Mahn. Really, I was rather surprised. I thought you practically _worshipped_ Captain Underpants."

Blinking, she feels like she's a statue come to life, her intellect sparked with interest. She decides to ignore the worshipping comment. "Sure I disagreed! I mean…_you_? Giving up, just like that? After all this time? That doesn't sound like you, does it?"

Megamind's brow wrinkles. "But I _did_ give up…didn't I?"

Roxanne shakes her head. "Not how I see it. You let me go because I asked. I was the one who took the initiative to stop. If it were up to you, I bet you'd still be going."

There's a moment of silence, during which none of them mention the fact that of course it _was_ entirely up to him, yet he ended things even though he didn't want to stop. Because she asked. Somehow, it doesn't want or need to be said, not right now.

She swears she's never seen his eyes quite this large and helpless before, not even during his most humiliatingly failed schemes. "I don't understand, though. Why didn't you tell everybody the truth? That I released you?"

She exhales. "Because I know how much you value your villainous image. Because I thought I'd give you the choice to reveal the truth yourself, with whatever consequences that might bring. Because I wanted to see what you'd do, what kinda guy you really are. And because I'm not really into revenge."

The frown lines on his face seem to be multiplying endlessly, miserably. "I'm so sorry."

"What _for_, specifically?" she asks, a thick coat of skepticism painted across the surprise in her voice.

"Oh, I've been thinking a _lot_ since you left that day, Miss Ritchi," he declares, briefly clutching his forehead with one hand. "Pondering day and night, utilizing all the powers of my superior, gargantuan brain! And there are so many, _many_ things to be sorry for. So, _so_ many!" The melodramatic flair has returned, and it's annoying, yet absurdly pleasing.

"Name one thing," she challenges, curious to see how this villain understands fault, and guilt, and what's good or bad, what you're not supposed to do to other people. Momentarily terrified that he's going to turn out to be even more warped than she thinks. That even now, he's going to make her nauseous by apologizing for being too boring, not being evil enough, not going bigger and better, that he's just going to harp on about the same old, same old— but he did set her free, and he heard her say what she said, so _surely_…?

He opens his mouth and closes it again, gestures limply with one hand. "I've…made a list. Minion helped," he admits, and she wants to laugh. She's sure he has it in writing, and she's sure he's brought it with him.

"Mention something important from the list. Anything."

He meets her eyes with a nearly uncomfortable level of sincerity and regret. "I'm sorry for snatching you away from your life. Inconveniencing you. I'm sorry for taking away your freedom of choice." She sees and hears him swallow hard. "I'm sorry for treating you like…a pawn in a game. I'm sorry for _all_ the _wasted_ _time_."

He seems to struggle even more to speak next: "I just thought…I thought that was how it was supposed to be. Because it _was_, right? I was the bad guy, Minion was the evil sidekick, Metro Mahn was the hero, you were the damsel. I thought everyone agreed. I guess I'd gotten so _used_ to it…I guess it had been so long since I'd properly considered my place in the world, that I'd somehow nearly forgotten what it felt like to hate the role you've been assigned without even being asked." He gives a sad little chuckle. "You know, Minion actually let me have a few well-placed words about what's it like being an evil sidekick? Can you believe it? Now he's gone and joined something called a_ union_. I had no idea one even existed!"

Minion helped, he said. She wonders if, without his loyal sidekick, ego and habit would have prevented him from gaining this insight. She purses her lips, folds her arms across her chest. A spike of the anger she hasn't allowed herself to feel much of the last couple of months (or maybe the last ten years), the anger she has barely been aware existed, pierces something inside her. The wound begs to be explored.

On the one hand, she found the whole thing bizarre and amusing; knows she's gotten so much attention, personal entertainment and so many hours of footage for work out of it. On the other hand, there's the unconsciousness and the headaches and the missed appointments and the waiting, the waiting, the waiting, the endless posturing, the cold lairs, the ruined outfits, the endless questions from her co-workers and her family, the missed opportunities to cover _much_ more important news—

She's not ready to forgive him. She's uncertain if she ever will be, not entirely. And now that Megamind's standing there in front of her in his silly cape, she realizes she's not ready to forgive Metro Man either. He could have stopped everything at any given time, if he'd really wanted to. Maybe that was why she didn't tell him the truth about why Megamind's not kidnapping her any longer; maybe because, deep down, she felt he didn't deserve to know. Metro Man never even asked her, never even gave her the option to quit the game. She supposes she should also be blaming Minion, but he was the one who always tried to make a hostage situation feel something more like a visit for her, even though he initially seemed physically incapable of going against his master's will. She can't bring herself to be too angry with him. Sometimes they almost seemed like friends.

She wonders if Megamind has already had, or is planning to have, a talk with Metro Man and Minion; the other amused, but harried players in the decade-long game. If so, she likes to think that he's prioritized coming to her. That he's put her, the most unfairly treated pawn of all, first in line, and that he's done so out of respect. Not just because he may or may not have some sort of weird crush on her.

There's also the simple fact to consider that he still hasn't gone out to find himself a replacement hostage, or even tried to continue the battle of Good vs. Evil without one. This tells her that, to Megamind, what went on for those ten years was just as much (if not more) about _her_ as it was about Metro Man. She's really not sure how she feels about that.

"Miss Ritchi?" Judging by the way he's now tilting his head, frowning in concern, he's expecting her to speak. Lucky for her, all of her thoughts are basically boiling down to one simple thing right now.

"I think I kinda need to yell at you for a while," Roxanne says, matter-of-factly.

Megamind blinks, takes a tiny step back. "Oh. You're angry."

"Yeah. I'm angry. I'm also a lot of other things, but right now, that's what I need to focus on. You've had a lot of fun with me, and I've had…_less_ fun. And much like me in the past, you don't have a choice. I mean, you can choose to_ leave_, of course, but if you choose to remain on my property right now, then_ believe_ me— you won't have any other choice than getting yelled at." Her eyebrow cocks. "I don't even care if I wake up the neighbour's annoying, yappy dog."

She can tell he's actually afraid now, despite the fact that he could easily dehydrate her on the spot and flee if he wanted to. But he's not leaving. It appears that he knows he deserves everything that's coming to him, no matter if he's scared. He's still willing to provide her with her catharsis.

She'll deal with the implications of this new behavior later. And she'll postpone asking him what he's been doing for the past two months and about his new plans for the future (if he has any). Right now, if anything productive is ever going to happen for either of them, she needs to vent first. Clear the air. It's been a _complicated_ decade.

"Okay," he agrees reluctantly, "but do you think I could…can I come in?"

Her hand tightens on the balcony door handle for a moment, the skin of her neck prickling, but slowly, the muscles in her arms and shoulders relax again.

He's not overstepping his bounds with her; he's just being sensible for once, that's all. Going inside and shutting the door— and _not_ having the entire block overhearing what _should_ be a very private conversation— would be for the best. Even though he's usually the world's biggest attention hog, now he's making a reasonable point for discretion.

And even though he's made it clear in the past that he's always known her address, considering how many times he and Minion have kidnapped her in her own neighborhood, the thing is that he's never, ever broken into her apartment to get her. Not once in all of ten years.

She's fully aware that you're supposed to simply take for _granted_ that your acquaintances would never do this, and that it isn't exactly something to give a person credit for, but he's _a blue alien supervillain raised in a prison for the criminally gifted_. Sometimes the expectation bar has to be set a little lower for him than for actual normal people. At least for now.

Nodding, Roxanne steps aside. "Come in, Megamind."

She hears him draw a trembling breath as he crosses the threshold.


	2. Chapter 2

**Bail**

Ninnik Nishukan

* * *

He hasn't gone three steps into her living room before he spins around.

"Uhm, I forgot— be right back—" he mumbles as he ducks out on the balcony.

Irritation flares up in her. Is he chickening out on her, after all?

She's distracted, however, by the sound of two loud blips, as if from a car remote. Then he pops back inside, looking sheepish. "I just had to turn on the cloaking device on the hover bike. I don't want the neighbours to notice it…uh, hovering out there."

Roxanne thinks at least one or two neighbours might've noticed already, but she doesn't bother commenting on it. He's here, he's inside. They have more important things to discuss. She does, however, take the time to close the curtains in front of the balcony door and her large living room windows.

"Do you want to sit down?" she offers briskly, walking towards the couch and expecting him to follow.

When she glances back at him for an answer, he actually jumps a little. If she wasn't feeling so irked, this reaction would be almost fascinating to watch. It's not like she's never seen him nervous before, but this is a whole other level. "Uh…no, thanks. I think I'll just…stand."

"Good, me neither." She turns around again, and starts pacing. She said she wanted to yell, but suddenly there are so many things writhing around inside her, threatening to spill out, that she has the sudden need for…if not exactly _calm_, then at least some semblance of control.

She clears her throat. "Do you know how many times I've had to go to work with a headache, or feeling nauseous, or with my neck, back and shoulders in agony, because you guys overdid it with the knock-out spray or tied me up uncomfortably or I was tossed around in some giant robot you guys lost control over?"

"But you always look perfectly fine on television?" Megamind sounds earnestly surprised.

Roxanne scoffs. "I _have_ to. It's called being a professional. We don't have the luxury of letting a bad day show up on camera. You'd be surprised at how many times local reporters are nursing hangovers, but you'd never know it unless you're in the biz."

"Oh."

"Why did you guys keep feeling the _need_ to knock me out all the time, anyway?" As this new point comes to mind, she can feel herself scowling at him. "I mean, Metro Man always found your hideouts and lairs, and for long periods of time, you'd often just keep using the same ones, so what was the point? It wasn't as if it was a secret location, and you needed to stop me from seeing where I was being taken to."

"It's an evil kidnapping. It's just…what you _do_. It's a _style_," he argues, gesturing imploringly, both palms up. "And it wasn't only about secrecy. You wouldn't have followed us willingly, so we had to incapacitate you."

"Did you ever even think to _ask_?" Her voice hasn't quite reached the volume she expected for this venting session, but it has certainly gained the sharpness. "I knew what the drill was, and we'd been doing it for so long, so I probably would have cooperated— especially given the choice of _that_ and getting sprayed in the face and having a dirty bag shoved over my head!"

He gives her a look of sulky defiance. "Well…that wouldn't have been very _evil_, would it?"

"No, as we've already established, _taking away_ somebody's _freedom of choice_ would've been evil."

"No," he echoes in agreement, having the good grace to look shame-faced for a moment.

"The thing is that everything was your deal. You and Metro Man and Minion. I was the only one who didn't get a say in things. The only choices I had was what outfit to wear and how to insult you. Other than that, I was literally tied up." Frustration rings clear in every syllable now, and she hopes he understands the feelings behind it; that he isn't privately using that big brain of his to plot his escape from the conversation. "You and Minion got to plan everything, and Metro Man got to fight you and figure out how to defeat you. You challenged each other and you obviously enjoyed it. Me, I was just the bait. Just the audience. It's not a great feeling, having so little control over what happens to you."

He looks thunderstruck. "No…no, you're right. It's not. And sometimes you just have to take matters into your own hands and...bust out. No, I get it."

Again, she wonders about his childhood, about prison life in general, about what kind of agency he's had in the past— but she's already decided that it will have to be a conversation for another time. She won't forget to ask.

Then his brow furrows. "Hang on, you're…do my ears deceive me, or are you in fact angry at _Metro_ _Mahn_?"

Roxanne raises an eyebrow. "You mean I shouldn't be?"

"But he's the_ hero_," he objects weakly, sounding as if somebody's just told him that he, Megamind, has somehow become the most popular new mayoral candidate Metro City's seen in years.

"That doesn't mean he never does anything wrong."

"It _doesn't_?" More flabbergasting news, it seems.

"Think about it," she says, putting her hand on her hip. "I was the one being tied to the chair, again and again. If he's so unselfish, you'd think he'd have stopped once or twice and asked me how I was doing, if I wanted him to put a stop to it all. Because he could have stopped everything, if he'd wanted to. I was never even _asked_, that's the point. I mean, usually when people are abducted and held against their will, they end up pretty traumatized, so…"

His mouth drops open. "Miss Ritchi, I— I didn't—"

"Relax, Megamind. I'm not traumatized," she reassures him flatly; then she rolls her eyes. "At least I don't _think_ so. It would've just been nice to have been _asked_, really. And I guess that was technically his job, not yours."

Megamind nods wretchedly. "Right…as your boyfriend, it's his job to take care of you."

Roxanne refrains from commenting. She's never actually told anybody she and Metro Man are dating; they all just made assumptions. Even though she hardly thinks he'd throw himself at her or anything, and even though she's still not entirely sure he's interested, there remains the fact that she has never before talked to a Megamind who thinks she's single and available. Meaning she doesn't know what to expect.

Considering they're alone in her private home, and considering she's already had to deal with Hal creeping on her for years, she feels she has every right to use the fake relationship with Metro Man as protection right now. Has every right to feel comfortable and safe. It isn't that she fears him, but she isn't ready to deal with whatever feelings he may or may not have for her. There's so much else to work through.

Closing her eyes for a few seconds of peace, she runs a calming hand through her short locks. "I think I'm done yelling for tonight. Talking at you. Whatever."

"Ah." His eyes dart uneasily towards the balcony door. "Um…so I guess you want me to leave?"

"Not yet. Look, it's just…I don't even know what to say or feel anymore. I'm so angry, but I'm also just…so _confused_. Because I'm thinking…maybe I'm really the most angry at myself." Her fingers come to rest below her throat for a moment, before she gestures her hand at him. "I mean, look how _easy_ it was to get you to release me. Does that mean it's also my own fault, for not speaking up sooner?"

He frowns, as if he's never even considered this. Or maybe he's just surprised at being asked for his opinion on the matter. "Oh, I'm not so sure about that. After all, I _am_ evil. Why would it ever occur to you that I'd let you go, just like that? Why would you ever think to ask?"

"Yeah, but I wasn't _afraid_ of you, not really, so I should've—"

Megamind pouts. "Yes, well, we're _all aware_ of how supremely _unimpressive_ and _unscary_ you think I am, but even so— you knew I was a super villain who played by super villain rules, and those don't include letting your hostage go simply because she says _pretty please_. So how would you know to ask?"

"I guess you're right, but…I _did _ask, didn't I? It just took me a long damn time." A long, distressed furrow is digging itself into the space between her eyebrows. "It's like I wasn't_ thinking_, not consciously, until maybe the last year or so. I knew I was feeling restless and uncomfortable, but that was kind of _all_ I knew."

"You did try to escape last year," he reminds her.

She shakes her head at herself. "I did! So maybe I should've realized sooner that I didn't want to be there anymore. Maybe I should've taken that as a sign."

"That was _fun_, by the way." His eyes have lit up, underlined by a mischievous grin. "When you tried to escape. It ruined my carefully and not to mention _brilliantly_ laid plans for the day, of course, but it was kind of exciting. You changed the routine."

A grin plays across her lips, in answer to his, but she loses it quickly.

"The point is, though, that I didn't examine my feelings properly. I just kind of…let things slide." Sighing, she rubs her forehead. "Got stuck in a groove. Maybe you're not the only creature of habit, huh?"

His grin all gone now, too, he pauses to consider things. "Well…you did ask me to wash the bag many times, and to cut down on the spray, and not to kidnap you on Sundays, and lots of other things…but I never listened, did I? So I suppose maybe…part of you told yourself it was hopeless. That I wouldn't listen, anyway."

He might have a point. Sometimes, Megamind and Metro Man's game would remind her a little of Hal without the creepy. Ironically enough, the hostage situations had rarely or never made her feel the pressure or the vague, but uncomfortable threatening vibe she got from Hal.

The common thread between the game of Good vs. Evil and Hal's behavior towards her, however, was the overwhelming feeling of getting an enormous amount of attention while simultaneously not really being listened to. Once in a while, she might experience something similar when meeting her fans. And it wasn't just Megamind. How many times did Metro Man ignore her responses if he expected her to be in a panic or be afraid, and she wasn't? Just because it didn't fit into the superhero script?

She shrugs. "Maybe that was it. I guess we'll never know." Just like she'll never quite know if she actually did have fun sometimes, or if being amused was more of a coping method. If she's honest with herself, though, she does believe the former option, rather than the latter. Sometimes, she kinda liked it.

"I'm sorry about not listening to you about those things," he says, meeting her eyes briefly before looking away. "They're…uh, they're on the list. Minion did wash the bag a few times, though, whenever he remembered to. It was just easy to get distracted sometimes, I guess." He gives a helpless shrug, shakes his head. "When we weren't locked up in prison, there was always so much to do. Evil plotting, evil engineering, gathering material for our latest scheme, routine maintenance of the lair, the brainbots and Minion's suit, grocery shopping…"

Roxanne sighs. "I know. There's always so much to do. Having a high stress job is one of the reasons I don't go out much, for example, or own a pet. It's not just because of you guys. But that's why the supervillain game got to be too much for me in the end, because it was slapped on top of an already full weekly schedule."

He hangs his head. "Still…sorry."

For a long moment, she can only stare at him. "You do know, though, don't you? How _extraordinary _this is? You, coming to me, apologizing?"

Megamind looks up, eyes wide. "Is it?"

Roxanne nods. "It is. You didn't _have to_ do it. Not at all. I know I didn't _expect_ it, at least."

"Uh, it just…seemed like the right thing to do?"

"See, that's the thing." She tilts her head at him. "Evil people don't say stuff like that."

He grimaces. "I know, I _know_— don't tell anybody!"

"Don't tell anybody what?" She can't stop the little smile from breaking out on her face. "That you're not actually very evil? That you're a terrible supervillain?"

"Don't _say_ that," he objects, suddenly looking crestfallen. "Being bad is the only thing I know how to do! You've already convinced me to stop being actively evil on a regular basis— are you going to try to strip me of my _title_, too?"

Frowning, she studies his face again. His chest is heaving with emotion, but his expression seems frozen now. Apparently, he expected her to argue, and has no idea how to respond to her silence.

At times in the last two months, she _has_ wondered how he was adjusting to his new life, post-kidnappings, but mostly, she was simply too busy living_ her_ new life. Now, here he is, clearly not adjusting too well.

Finally, she figures it out. Finds the words to ask. "Is that how you feel? Like I've…_evicted _you from your old life?"

Biting his lip, he frowns down at his black leather boots. "…yes."

"But did you really like it all that much?" _That_ one she's honestly curious about. She gets the feeling she shouldn't be pushing too much, though, so she keeps her tone even; makes sure it doesn't sound harsh.

His voice comes out tight, odd. "It was perfectly _fine_."

"At least as long as you didn't examine it too closely, right?"

Now he looks at her, even if reluctantly. "It was the only life I had," he says helplessly.

She thinks she knows how he feels, at least kind of. Even though she had the resources of a job, friends and family to fall back on, to help ground her…the first week or so out of the game felt…weird. Itchy. And the first time she had to write a big news piece after, it was as if she had to teach herself to write and speak again. Unlearn the language of their specific brand of heroics and villainy. Of course, she always had to cover other things in between, but Metro Man and Megamind monopolized most of her time.

Now, how much would Megamind need to unlearn?

Roxanne stands up. "I'm gonna make some tea. You want some?"

Megamind arms fall to his sides, disorientation reanimating his face. "_Tea_?"

"Mmm," she confirms breezily, trying to pretend she isn't aware of how groundbreaking the offer is for them. How much it resembles some sort of decision, a direction taken. "It's a little late for coffee, but I could still make you a cup if you want. If you don't like tea."

"No, that's— tea. From you. For me." The way he talks, the way he stares, tells her his mind is far away, trying to make sense of things. She knows the feeling. "Sure. I guess I could try some tea, for once."

"Why don't you sit down?" she suggests again, her voice going soft for the first time that evening. She resists the impulse to add _before you fall down_.

Megamind drops heavily down on the couch, his back rigid and his eyes unseeing. Lost. She can tell he won't respond intelligently if she asks him whether he takes milk or sugar, so she doesn't.

When she returns a few minutes later with two steaming mugs of peppermint tea, he's got one of her red couch cushions clutched tightly under one arm, the other hand holding a long, slightly wrinkled piece of paper up to his face.

He stops scanning the paper when she puts one of the mugs down on the coffee table in front of him. "Uh, here's the list, by the way," he explains without her asking, holding it up to her. "You don't have to read it now, but…there it is."

Accepting the paper, she puts her own cup down before sitting down on the opposite end of the couch. Her curiosity overwhelming her, she starts reading the list straight away. When she shakes it, it folds out like some kind of long, narrow road map. And it's strange, seeing the last ten years of her kidnapping victim career meticulously documented like this. Every item has been numbered. Some items have sub-categories. It makes her wonder exactly how much free time he's had lately, after quitting his regular gig.

He's got nice, neat handwriting, she notes absentmindedly. Every once in a while, the pattern is broken by a bigger, blockier scrawl that must be Minion's.

Roxanne grins a bit as she comes across his apology for ruining her expensive, new hairdo during the robo-sheep spectacle a couple of years ago.

Meanwhile, Megamind has started experimenting with the new, unfamiliar beverage. She can still feel his apprehensive eyes on her occasionally, as she keeps reading, but at least he seems partly distracted.

"This tastes like _toothpaste_," he remarks, sticking his tongue out. Yet he takes another sip. Then another; this one larger. Then he blinks. "Oh, _toothpaste_— I forgot— have you been to the dentist yet, by the way?"

Lowering the list, she frowns at him. "The dentist?"

"Yes, remember? You said I'd made you miss your last two appointments?"

"Right." She ventures a small, quick smile at the concern, deciding to finish the list later. She likes it when people pay actual attention to what she says, and figures she should extend the same courtesy to him. "Yes, don't worry, I've been to the dentist now," she says, folding the list in half to push it carefully to the next couch seat over. Then she picks up her own cup.

He nods firmly. "Good. Did you know you can die from an infected tooth, if it gets in your bloodstream and reaches your heart?"

Her eyes go wide, and she stops in mid-sip, lowering her cup. "Alright, alright, no need to get _dramatic_—"

"Miss Ritchi, do you floss regularly?"

Roxanne swears she nearly dropped her tea cup, then. "Ohhh-kay, that's— that's enough now!"

Megamind looks like a kicked puppy. "What did I do?"

"What did you _do_?" She puts her cup down on the coffee table with a dull thump. "You went from threatening my life with weird torture devices and alligators on a regular basis, to— to checking if I floss every day like a good girl so I won't die of a tooth infection! Who are you, my _dentist_ all of a sudden? My _mom_?"

He throws his hands up. "Oh, come on, you _know_ all those torture devices were just for show!"

She just stares at him.

His hands come back down, slowly. "…don't you?"

Sitting back down, Roxanne releases a tired breath. "Yeah, I guess I do know. I've known for a long time. It's just…this is all a little much."

When she doesn't elaborate, he apparently feels forced to fill the silence. "The automatic machine guns didn't even have bullets in them. Well, they did have blanks at first, but I thought, even _that _might be a risk, so—"

"The alligators had _teeth_ in them, though," she interjects dryly.

He pouts. "They're really quite nice, once you get to know them."

"Nice, huh?" She rolls her eyes. "I'm just afraid I'll uncover more layers of _weird_ once I get to know you."

Now his eyes seem suddenly glassy. "Well, well, _well_, Miss Ritchi…" His breath actually hitches, then. "Aren't _you_ just being…a big meanie again, hmm? Are you sure you're not still trying out for Evil Queen?"

She groans. Apparently, she's already forgotten her own resolve to give him a little slack about any social faux pas for now, what with his questionable upbringing. "I'm sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have said that. It's just…a little too much. It's gonna take a while to adjust to…to our new roles, whatever they may be. Right? I just don't really know what to think about all this. For one thing, I mean— Evil Queen? _Really_? You're still going on about that? Because it should be _pretty clear_ by now that _any_ guy who's gonna be with me needs to be a…I dunno, a Good King, I guess? Okay, so that's a…_really_ dumb name, but you get the idea. I'm not a criminal, and I don't wanna be one."

Megamind's shoulders slump. "Of course. Metro Mahn. The…Good King. Just another one of his many nauseating titles."

"Right." Roxanne closes her eyes for a moment, blocking out his misery. Her mouth still needs to stay shut about her and Metro Man, because for all she knows, Megamind might see it as an invitation to try to _be_ her Good King or whatever. That is not something she is prepared to deal with tonight. And if he does decide to attempt to be good, she's not interested in having his only incentive being her sitting at the other end of the tunnel, like some sort of prize. He should do it because he wants to and needs to, and because it's the right thing to do.

He might need somebody to believe in him, though, and she supposes that_ could_ hypothetically be her (and in due time, she suspects it could possibly-maybe also be Metro Man). It's crazy, the idea of more or less becoming Megamind's social workers. Even imagining the amount of responsibility it would entail makes her shiver inside, but...if encouraging him towards the right direction can be done at all, then who _else_ but them could do it? The Warden has apparently already given up on being a positive influence for him.

It's just an idea to consider. She hasn't made any promises, signed any contracts, or even discussed it seriously with anybody. While it remains locked in her mind, it's nothing but an interesting concept.

As if embarrassed, Megamind busies himself by taking a large swig of his tea. "I shouldn't have brought up the subject of Evil Queen. I didn't mean anything by it, it's just part and parcel of being evil. I'm supposed to be all…_seductive_." He says the last word in a deeper voice, wiggling the long, slender fingers of his left hand with half-hearted eeriness. "I guess it must be in poor taste now that we're …_technically_ not enemies anymore, and especially since you're…already taken. I didn't mean to be creepy— not _that_ kind of creepy, anyway—"

"Megamind," she says, her steady, serious tone bidding him to look at her, "I am _more_ than familiar with what that kinda creepy looks like, and _trust_ me— _you _are _not_ it."

His already naturally large eyes grow larger. "Really?"

She gives her head a firm shake. "Uh-_uh_. Definitely not."

The look he sends her is so grateful her heart almost breaks for him.

She clears her throat. "Speaking of Metro Man, have you talked to him, too?"

And just like that, he's back to his safe, surly ways, eyes narrowing. "What for, so I can apologize to him for smudging his pristine white gloves with oil or soot from my inventions, every time he punched me or held me upside down to shake me? Or should I apologize for providing him with even _more_ adoring fans?"

Roxanne snorts. "Hah, no, I just figured…maybe he'd want to know why you quit. Fighting you was such a big part of his life, after all. He hasn't come to you yet?"

"Oh, for _sure_," he says, raising his nearly empty teacup in a mockery of a toast, "Metro Mahn and I had a couple of _broo-skis_ and watched the game together yesterday."

Her mouth twitches with suppressed laughter.

"I bet he _does_ watch football," he continues snidely, "it certainly includes enough beefy, _brainless_ jocks…"

She giggles at his juvenile pettiness. "Hockey. He watches hockey."

"I'm not surprised," he mutters, glaring into the dregs of his tea. Then his grim expression clears, replaced by awe. "Miss Ritchi…did you just _laugh_?"

She pauses. "Uh…yes? Why?"

"I don't think I've ever heard you laugh before. Not other than _mockingly_."

A shy grin blooms on her face. "Oh…well, it's a nice change. Not feeling the urge to mock and all."

"So, Miss Ritchi…after all those years of trying to make you scream…perhaps I should've tried making you laugh instead?" he asks, directing a warm and fond smile at her.

And to her surprise, it doesn't feel uncomfortable or too flirty, it just feels…uplifting. Her cheeks are glowing now.

They'll never know what would have happened if he did, but it's a very nice notion. At least in theory. She hopes the real thing wouldn't have included him kidnapping her and forcing her to be the one woman audience to his standup routine or something. No, she decides, that would've been _too_ bizarre, even for him. _Surely_.

Holding back a laugh at the ludicrous thought of brick walls, microphones, rubber chickens and ukuleles instead of lasers, tesla coils, alligators and spikes, she grants him a warm smile in return. "You know, for your first day, you're not too bad at being good."

His smile drops. "It's…not exactly my first day."

This gives her another pause; she feels like perhaps she should've known this. Researching Megamind, Minion or Metro Man as a reporter, however, has always felt too much like snooping into the private lives of people she knew, rather than simple investigative journalism. So she hasn't done much of it.

"How so?" she asks.

Megamind flaps a dismissive hand. "I've tried being good before, when I was a child. It didn't really work out. I'm not very eager to try again."

"I think you've already tried today, though," she says, shrugging one shoulder. "And that worked out okay, didn't it?"

"It did?"

"I think so."

It appears she's momentarily thrown him for a loop, but it doesn't take long before he scoffs, shaking his head as if to clear it of the notion. "But this isn't the same. This was just…an apology. I _owed_ you. It's not the same as being good."

"You showed me courtesy and respect, and you listened to me," she explains gently. "That's what people want, really."

"It's different when it's you. I can talk to you. You're not…society at large." His eyes narrow to slits, his eyebrows drawing together, and his shoulders hunching up. "I know I can't redeem myself in the eyes of the public, and I don't think I'd even _want_ to. I don't owe them _anything_."

Roxanne decides to try another approach. "Megamind? Do you want to tell me about before, when you tried to be good? Off the record, of course. You'd have my word that nothing would wind up on the news or in the papers."

The distrustful glare— directed at some abstract concept of society currently not present in her living room— disintegrates. "What, you want me to tell you_ now_?"

She shakes her head. "It's late. Come back next Sunday."

"Come…come _back_? _Here_?"

"Next Sunday," she repeats, nodding.

Megamind stares at her as if she's just suggested they team up to destroy Metro Man. "You're _inviting_ me?"

"Yep."

"But I've never been invited to visit _anyone_ before—" His cheeks and ears go a deep purplish pink, then, and he blusters, "Uh, _you_ _know_, because I've always been more of a_ rebel_ and a _party crasher_, that's all—"

She keeps her expression carefully blank. "Of _course_."

Megamind clears his throat, face still flushed. "But anyway— I thought you didn't like to be bothered on Sundays?"

"Then why did you come here tonight?"

"It was the only day I knew you'd be home."

"Exactly. So come over on Sunday. It's different when it's not a _kidnapping_," she says, raising her eyebrows pointedly. Then she smiles. "I don't mind social visits on Sundays. Let's say…around eight?"

He nods slowly, still looking stunned. "But…don't you already have any plans? After all, it's your day off, and…Metro Mahn…"

Roxanne bites her lip; one day, it'll be inevitable to tell him the truth, but today is just…not that day. It'll only complicate things. "He's supposed to give a lecture at the Metro Man museum on Sunday, and there's some charity stuff he needs to do in the evening. So I'm free as a bird."

"Oh."

"So I'll see you then?"

Seeming to come out of his daze, he draws himself up. "What will the citizens of Metrocity say if it comes out you're harboring a wanted criminal?" he challenges. "Won't that damage your oh-so-prestigious career?"

"I'll tell them you're giving me exclusive interviews," she says calmly.

"And when those interviews aren't published? After all, you _said_ off the record—" He shoots her a glare. "Unless, of course, you were just trying to _trick_ me—"

"I'll tell them I'm saving them for my memoirs. Or maybe I'll tell them I'm collaborating with the Warden and Metro Man to_ reform_ you," she adds, teasing.

Throwing his head back, he lets out a single, derisive bark of laughter. "Hah! As if _anybody_ would believe _that_!"

She remains unruffled. "Wouldn't they?"

This pokes a hole in his false bravado. At first, he looks baffled; then it grows into something resembling fascination. "I guess…we'll have to find out?"

She gives a curt nod. "Then I'll see you next Sunday."

He smiles, in a distracted sort of way. "I'll see you then. Thanks for…for the tea," he adds hesitantly, as if the sentence is completely foreign to him. "I'll…uh, I'll bring some donuts next time."

He's about to leave when she realizes she's got something more to say. She hurries to block his path to the balcony door. "That's great, but— Megamind?"

He stops before he bumps into her. "Yes?"

She meets his gaze with hers. "Thank you, too, for this. It's been ten _very_ strange years, so thank you…for giving me the opportunity to finally talk some things out."

It seems her genuine gratitude has bewildered Megamind. She's had that effect on him a lot tonight. "You're welcome?"

"We probably _all_ still need some _serious_ therapy, but…I think I actually might feel a little better," she says, laughing softly.

His eyes appear to acquire some extra shine to them at that. "You do?"

Roxanne nods. "It wasn't _all_ bad, it's just…I was _done_, you know? And I think that if it hadn't been me…then either one of you guys would have put a stop to it instead. It was just a matter of time, and a matter of who."

"Even me?"

"Yeah. Who knows? Maybe that's one of the reasons why it was easy for me to get you to let me escape. Maybe deep down, you were kind of tired of it, too, you know? So even you, I think, would have wanted something else eventually. Now you just need to figure out what that is."

"I'm…I'm _trying_ to, Miss Ritchi," he admits, sounding almost out of breath.

Intrigued, she smiles as she steps aside to let him out on the balcony. "I look forward to hearing about it."

Perhaps next time, she muses, as she watches Megamind and the hover bike speeding off into the night, she'll give him permission to call her Roxanne. She'll just have to wait and see how she feels. Right now, all she knows is that she kinda-sorta had a good time tonight. She didn't expect to.

One day, perhaps she'll even try asking him what his _real_ name is.

"Go to bed, Mrs. Wilkins!" Roxanne calls on her way back inside, catching a loud splutter from the elderly lady next door. Mrs. Wilkins is practically hanging out her window, trying to gawk at Roxanne.

She's glad she's the only one with a big balcony on this floor. Still, she might have to convince Megamind to think up a more discreet visitation plan next time.

**The End.**

* * *

**Author's notes**: I decided to extend the fic a bit. I agreed with some of the readers, who felt the original ending was a bit abrupt.

Roxanne's lines about Megamind being evicted from his old life, and asking if he really liked it all that much, were stolen/paraphrased from the 1997 movie _As Good as it Gets_.

Roxanne's nosy next door neighbor is partly inspired by the snooping old lady who lived next door to Geena Davis in _Earth Girls are Easy _(1988). Geena told her "good night" in much the same way that Roxanne did. The tone suggested "go away/mind your own business".


End file.
